


The grin that changed Hermione's plans

by moonfairy13



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: #fairysafe, F/M, Fred Weasley Lives, Happy Ending, Multi, One Big Happy Weasley Family (Harry Potter), Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-14 09:35:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28668588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonfairy13/pseuds/moonfairy13
Summary: "The Weasley twins are identical, right?Then why does walking down the aisle feel like she's walking to her execution?Where Hermione is SUPPOSED to be marrying George but the best man makes her heart and stomach go all a flutter, what should she do?"This story has been written in response to the above prompt for the "With Love, Weasley" fest.And the usual caveat: I'm a professional non fiction author who writes fanfic for fun. I have no interest in criticism, so save that for those who are seeking it and will make use of it, but I love reading happy comments if anyone enjoys what I write 💜
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Fred Weasley, Hermione Granger/Fred Weasley/George Weasley, Hermione Granger/George Weasley
Comments: 56
Kudos: 124
Collections: With Love Weasley





	1. The grin

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [With_Love_Weasley](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/With_Love_Weasley) collection. 



> This fic only has a pic thanks to my lovely friend LSUsweetie, who stepped in when my life turned upside down for a bit. Thank you. And more thanks as always to LSUSWEETIE, ThePotterWatcher and Quartz for Hufflepuff moral support and Ravenclaw research skills 😊
> 
> You can [read the one shot in which George and Hermione got together here.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24335971) And then [find out who Greta is here.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24211513/chapters/58918189)

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/189392973@N07/50935786081/in/dateposted-public/)  


From thirty yards out, which was Arthur’s estimate of the distance from the back seats to the rose-covered arch that Fleur and Greta had made for the wedding vows to be spoken under, everything felt okay.

At twenty-five yards, the groom turned, giving Hermione one of his heart-warming smiles. She returned it, wondering at how time could pass so slowly at important points in one’s life that so many thoughts and visions could occupy a single moment. Her memory of the red headed boy with the welcoming smile who was the first to reach for her hand when she joined the Gryffindor table. The cheeky grin he would flash her after a thousand quick comments and pranks. The way her heart had beaten as fast as his twin’s when she had seen him laying on his mum’s sofa, head bathed in his own blood. Their first shared kiss, in the dark of a hospital room and borne of the relief they both felt that Fred had survived. All of the moments they had shared that summer leading to the shared decision at New Year that they wanted to spend the rest of their lives together. 

Yes, she loved the wizard at the other end of the aisle with all of her heart.

But at twenty yards, the world shifted on its axis. The groom’s best man also turned, a matching grin on his face, and three things hit Hermione with the force of a flipendo.

One, she was supposed to be marrying George.

Two, her stomach and heart were both fluttering wildly in response to the look that Fred was giving her.

Three, she wasn’t going to make it to the fifteen yard point. She felt almost as if she were walking to her own execution. Or at least the execution of something important.

Hermione gasped, froze and brought her hand to her mouth. 

“I’m…. I’m… Oh Gods….”

She turned on her heel and fled the way she had come.


	2. The conversation

Molly had repeatedly yelled at the twins for their habit of apparating everywhere together at the age of seventeen. But as she watched from the kitchen, where she had been staying out of the way to allow the wedding rehearsal to flow without her input, she was rather glad that they were so practised at this skill. Their ability meant that they managed to land themselves either side of a running Hermione and catch her in a hug between them before the young witch had even realised what they were doing. Molly had wondered whether this might happen, and was immensely relieved that it had happened during the rehearsal rather than at the wedding itself. Lifting her wand, she at first intended to start the kettle but then thought better of it. Instead, Molly turned towards the dining room and headed for the firewhisky.

Back in the garden, Arthur wasn’t generally that quick on the uptake when it came to picking up on nuance, but his eldest son was. Quickly, Bill eyed a twig that was laying in the grass just behind where the trio stood and transfigured it into a comfy looking garden seat. With a quick nod to his eldest brother, Fred guided the other two until they were all settled upon it; Hermione’s head buried against his twin’s chest. Fred began to rub tiny circles into her back.

“Tell us, love,” whispered George. “Tell us what’s wrong? Was it another flashback? Bitchatrix?”

Hermione chuffed out half a laugh when she heard the name that he insisted on using to try and take the power from the now-dead witch who had hurt his lover. She had offered just as much comfort to George in turn. The pair had been inseparable since the night she had sat vigil with him at Fred’s bedside and kissed in the darkness. Once he had realised that her support for others was in part her way of coping with her own experiences, and that she was having frequent nightmares, George offered Hermione his bed and his arms, glaring at anyone who dared question propriety.

But there was no real mirth in her response. The bride-to-be shook her head, letting out a sob in response to his kindness, which she was certain she did not deserve. How do you tell the man you’re about to marry that you’re lusting after his brother? Options and possibilities flew through her mind, and she rejected each in turn before they could even settle into coherent thought.

“I can’t,” was all she could manage.

“You can’t scare us,” Fred said softly, eliciting yet another sob from the shaking witch as she heard the tenderness and the gentle smile in his voice.

She couldn’t possibly tell them. She couldn’t be responsible for coming between them. Not when they had nearly lost each other at different times during the war. Hermione didn’t know what the answer to her current problem was, but announcing her newfound feelings wasn’t the way forward. Besides, she needed to analyse the unbidden emotions herself first. Although, if she was honest with herself, she realised with a blush that she was glad was hidden in George’s chest, her feelings for Fred hadn’t come quite as out of the blue as she might like to think. There had always been a frisson between the pair; a spark that was different to the kind of love that she shared with George. Hermione’s feelings for Fred had begun with the aging potion, continued throughout the years and, she now realised, were a force of nature that she had suppressed as she and George had kissed in the darkness and then realised they cared for each other.

Why those feelings had to rise up today of all days, Circe only knew. She let out another small sob; not even for herself, but at the thought of having to choose between making George sad and telling him an untruth.

“Please tell us, love,” George begged again, and Hermione felt a pang of sadness and guilt at the tone of his voice. “It’s just me and Fred,” he said, and Hermione felt him lift his head a little to check that his statement was indeed true. “And Fred loves you just as much as I do,” he added.

“Too right I do,” came a voice from behind Hermione. Fred was still rubbing her back and the combination of that and being in George’s arms was comforting, she had to admit, even as she realised that the feelings that being sandwiched between the two of them were eliciting were wholly inappropriate for the situation.

“Fred would’ve been up there waiting for you beside me if you’d have wanted him too. And Lee would have been the one getting excited about his best man’s speech,” George chuckled, and his words caused Hermione to freeze as she tried to work out their meaning. “Oh fuck, sorry, love,” he said, realising too late the effect his words had had on her. “He accepts you don’t want that,” he reassured. “He loves you, so he wants what’s best for you. I just meant that you could speak free–”

George didn’t get to finish his sentence, because Hermione had sat upright, tear-streaked face and all.

“What did you just say?” she said.

George flinched, and his eyes flew to Fred’s. Hermione could only imagine the look they shared.

“I’m sorry, love,” he said. “I’m not trying to make you feel bad about rejecting him. Really. I was trying to reassure you about how much Fred loves you, and tell you it’s okay to tell us anything.”

“Rejected?" Her eyebrows knotted in confusion. "And what don’t I want?” Hermione demanded, adjusting her position so she could look at both the redheaded men in turn.

“Well, you know…” Fred said, with a shrug that he tried to make look casual. It was clear from his face that he felt anything but casual about their current conversation. “We’re magical identical twins…” He smirked a bit, and then made a suggestive facial gesture which implied that Hermione would – or should – realise exactly what he meant from that statement alone.

She didn’t, so looked to George for clarification. He was also sporting a slightly embarrassed look. It wasn’t something Hermione was used to seeing on a Weasley twin.

“Well, you always had the option…” he said, which was no help at all.

“Hmmm,” Fred continued, giving her back a small pat of reassurance. “But like Georgie says, I respect your decision.”

“What option? What about magical identical twins?” Hermione prompted. “I’m muggle born, remember?”

“Yeah, but you’ll have gone to McGonagall’s lecture in seventh year,” George added, blushing slightly. His face sported a similar look to Fred’s; suggestive and a little shy; as if he was whispering a slightly smutty joke while having lunch at Auntie Muriel’s.

“You know,” said Fred. “The one that’s only slightly less embarrassing than getting The Talk from your mum or dad.”

“When I was out hunting horcruxes?”

There were several beats of silence which were filled only by the sounds of birds in the trees to their right, where the apple blossom was starting to fall.

“Fuck,” whispered Fred, as his brother spoke too.

“You really don’t know?”

“I don’t suppose I do,” said Hermione, and neither man could read her emotion. “But maybe you should tell me?”

In truth, Hermione didn’t know herself how she was feeling. Too many emotions were swirling at once. She was aware that, amongst them, a tiny glimmer of hope was growing.

“Magical twins often love the same woman,” Fred said, matter of factly. “And it’s common and accepted in the wizarding world for them to form a triad, usually with a powerful witch or wizard. Everyone knows that.” He glanced at George. “Or at least we thought they did…”

“Generally, you need someone powerful to balance two lots of magic,” George added. “But you only seemed interested in me, love, and you never mentioned anything about dating the two of us, so Freddie told me to go ahead.” The look that George gave his twin was pure love, of the brotherly kind. They both remembered their hushed conversations about the day on which Hermione had saved Fred, and then kissed George. It was because Hermione had saved Fred that Fred himself had insisted on having the last word. Every time. Hermione should have whatever she wanted. Which was, it seemed, just George. Nothing to discuss here.

“So…” Hermione paused, wanting to choose her next words carefully, in case she was misunderstanding in the dizzying speed of this conversation and the thoughts and possibilities that she thought might be opening up. “So what you’re saying is that you wouldn’t think it was odd if I told you that I liked Fred too?”

She felt Fred’s breath hitch from behind as George smiled at his bride-to-be. The elder twin had been trying so hard not to hope, but the way Hermione had looked at him just before she fled had given him reason to do so. There had been pure lust in her eyes, he was sure. The question was whether his gorgeous, sensible, logical Hermione would allow herself to act on emotion and follow her heart.

“I’d think it was bloody brilliant if you told me you liked Fred too,” George said, “but I’m not pressuring you, love, and neither will he.” The look he gave Fred enforced his words, and Fred gave him a nod of assent.

Hermione drew a deep breath in. “I like Fred too,” she said, and it came out as if it were all one word. “I don’t love you any less than I did this morning,” she reassured George, spearing her fingers into the hair that covered his missing ear, “but I was walking down the aisle and I looked at Fred and I got all these butterflies and I realised that I loved him too, and not just in a sisterly way, and I ran because I couldn’t see how that could possibly work, and I’m so cross that Ginny and Ron never mentioned this to me, because how would I ever know otherwise, and –“

George stroked her hand as she trailed off. “Breathe, love,” he whispered, as he leaned down and touched his lips against her mouth.

“Not that I’m in the habit of defending Ron,” Fred joked from her other side, “but the trouble is that we think that everyone knows this stuff. And it’s not really the done thing to bring it up over dinner, you know. Bit private. Sorry,” he shrugged, with a grin that widened as he continued to speak. “Does this mean I can give you a kiss as well, love?”

Hermione looked panicked. She desperately wanted to give Fred a kiss but, even though the Weasleys weren’t looking directly at the three of them, this was still far too new an idea for her to want to be seen kissing both men. At least until she had processed it some more.

George leaned in, so that Hermione could see his wand movements, and slowly cast a notice-me-not spell over the three of them. “Better?” he asked, with a grin. Hermione nodded. “Go ahead,” he reassured, when her eyes searched his for a sign of his feelings about this turn of events. “We don’t get jealous of each other, truly…”

When Hermione turned back towards Fred, she almost melted at the look of want in his eyes. He cupped her face in his hands and his right thumb stroked her cheek as he moved their mouths together. His kisses were different from George’s, and that realisation made her happy in a way that she could never have predicted. With a sigh, she softened into Fred’s arms and the two slowly shared their first kiss while George took his turn stroking patterns on her back.

Suddenly, she pulled back.

“How would it work?” she asked, looking between them again. “You don’t,” she looked shocked, “you know … with each other, do you?”

“Of course not!” They exclaimed in unison.

“We’re brothers,” George pointed out.

“That would be wrong,” Fred said.

“Which isn’t to say we’d turn down the idea of loving you at the same time…” George said, slowly, as if that would help the words sink in better.

“But it would be all about you,” Fred finished with a smirk that made her want to apparate the two of them to the flat they shared and pull them both down onto a bed.

“And people wouldn’t think it weird?” she asked.

Both of the men laughed at that.

“What?” she continued as she saw them exchange a knowing look.

“It’s less weird than you just marrying one of us, to be honest,” George said. “At least in the magical world. But only if it’s what you want.”

“I don’t really know what I want at the moment,” Hermione said. “It’s a bit of a whirlwind.”

“Right,” said Fred, standing up from the seat and offering Hermione his hand. “Let’s go back and say you had a bit of a flashback due to wedding nerves, nothing to worry about. We’ll finish up the rehearsal and pretend you’re still just marrying Georgie and then we’ll take you home for dinner and wine and lots of conversation. We’ll even throw in a book or two about twin bonds if it’ll help you decide,” he winked.

“Fred Weasley,” Hermione said, making sure she kept hold of George’s hand and gave it a squeeze as she leaned forward and gave the elder twin one last quick kiss before going back to treating him as George’s best man for the sake of appearances. “For that, I’ll buy the fish and chips.”


	3. The wedding

From thirty yards out, everything felt okay. More than okay. It was a year to the day since Hermione would originally have been married. To George. As she looked towards the rose covered arch which Fleur and Greta had – again – made for the wedding vows to be spoken under, she gave Greta and Charlie a special smile. She was immensely grateful to the healer and the dragon keeper, who had done them the most massive favour on the night of the original wedding rehearsal.

It had been Charlie's idea, born out of the conversation that he and Bill shared after the eldest Weasley had made the trio a sofa. A quick word in George’s good ear was all it had taken to sow the seed. A short while after the rehearsal, George had complained of feeling tired and a bit under the weather. Fred took charge, insisting that both the bride and groom needed rest. The elder twin took his mother aside and, after confirming her suspicions, swearing her to secrecy and causing her to hug him within an inch of his life, she quickly packaged up enough food for a week and then parcelled the trio off to the twins’ flat via the floo. Later that evening, after a long conversation between the three of them, in which Hermione had learned everything she needed to know over their meal, it was Charlie and Greta that they owled. 

Postponing the wedding without good reason would have caused more gossip than anyone had the capacity to deal with. 

Postponing the wedding because the groom had suspected dragon pox instead evoked sympathy and support. It was almost embarrassing, given that it had been a ruse designed to give the trio some time to work things out, but several of their family members insisted that it was the only way that Hermione wouldn't find herself on the front pages for the wrong reasons.

Greta had given them advice and information by floo call that evening. George reported having every symptom of dragon pox that Greta listed, while Fred and Charlie could barely contain their laughter. Greta cheerfully recorded George's list of symptoms in his medical notes and informed him that he was entitled to undergo official testing in order to see if he really needed to quarantine for the required month. He instead altruistically volunteered to quarantine himself, to cheers from Charlie. The healer then gave the official advice on quarantining close contacts, and Fred and Hermione proclaimed to have been the only people standing close enough to George at the rehearsal to be in any danger. They announced that they would remain in the flat with him, just in case. A couple of days later, George and Hermione reluctantly announced their wedding postponement by owl. And the next time she had nothing more important about magical creatures to say, Luna published a sympathetic piece in The Quibbler sharing the news that Hermione had now decided to wait until after Ginny and Harry’s much larger wedding before hers could be rescheduled. It was only fair to the rest of the family, the young war heroine was reported as saying. 

Lee – who wasn’t stupid and who had seen George feign illness enough times to know that he no more had dragon pox than he had a bright green squirrel tattooed on his arse – insisted on being told what was happening and then volunteered to manage the shop. He would blacken the windows every night so that the twins could come down and do their thing. The month of quarantine had been great for product production as well as for the privacy that the three needed for chatting. Molly sent a daily parcel of food, sometimes accompanied by cryptic little notes that alternately made the trio wince and giggle. But the ruse worked to give them the time they needed. Three weeks after the wedding should have taken place The Daily Prophet reported - again, to Charlie's immense amusement - that none of the three developed further symptoms. But they then moved on to focusing on Ginny's wedding. And Hermione personally ensured that every other bunch of flowers sent to the supposed invalids was redirected to Greta or Molly.

When she was twenty-five yards away, both of the grooms turned and gave Hermione grins that made her certain that she had made the right decision. Hermione returned the twins’ smiles, again wondering at the slow passing of time. She remembered those first shared kisses with Fred, into which she found it hard to relax until George lay beside them and whispered into her ear. It was George who called out for the fish and chips and headed to the kitchen for wine, leaving the pair to get to know each other in this new way; to start exploring each other's lips and mouths and bodies. But, once they had eaten, Fred announced he was taking a shower, having realised that Hermione needed reassurance from George alone. That he was really, really okay with this turn of events. That not only did he not mind about calling the wedding off, he was positively delighted that Fred would be part of their relationship as well. When Fred had returned half an hour later and more wine had been poured, Hermione had laid across their laps and let the alcohol loosen all of their inhibitions. The three spoke freely, of their hopes and dreams, and then went to Fred’s bed, simply to cuddle and sleep. 

At the twenty yard point, she gave them a wink, knowing that it turned them both to jelly when she did that. She had promised them last week that she would do this, as a way of letting them know that she wasn’t going to stop this time. In fact, her step was surer than ever. Hermione knew without doubt that she loved both of the wizards at the other end of the aisle with all of her heart. It wasn’t that they didn’t have stuff to work on still. But, as Molly had reminded her on several occasions, relationships always needed work, no matter how many people were involved. She wanted to do this, with all of her heart. Those around her saw her determination and smiled at each other.

Fifteen yards from her wizards, Hermione’s heart began to beat a little faster as she thought about her wedding night. The three of them didn’t always make love together, and she enjoyed one on one time with them both, but she knew they would all be together tonight, and likely throughout their honeymoon. She raised her eyebrows a little, remembering the first time they had shown her how that aspect of their relationship could be. Hermione had always liked to be on top of George when they made love because she usually found it easier to orgasm in that position. But when Fred flipped her onto their oversized sofa and lowered his naked body on top of hers a few days into their month of “quarantine”, she found she enjoyed it rather a lot, thank you very much. Two or three times she had found herself looking to the side, a bit of her still wanting to check that George was okay, until the younger twin moved in closer, nuzzling her side with one hand and stroking her hair with the other.

“Love watching you like this,” he had said. “Fucking Fred. Don’t worry about me, love, I’m having a brilliant time watching Fred fuck you.”

“Ohhhhh … Fred…” Reassured, and quite turned on by his words, Hermione gripped Fred’s hips harder, unable to contain her joyful laughter as Fred increased the pressure while George provided a smutty commentary. Hermione looked between the two men’s faces, finding it hard to believe her luck.

“Say it again … say my name,” Fred managed, though his breathing was heavy and he spoke far more slowly than normal.

“Fred. Fred,” she said, narrowing her eyes in lust as she locked them with his. She tipped her hips, planting her feet on the sofa and eliciting a moan from deep within his chest. He matched her movements and then swore as he neared his orgasm. 

“Can I?”

Hermione had no idea what George was asking his twin, but Fred clearly did, as he nodded, paused briefly and lifted his hips before resuming his rhythm. And then she felt George’s fingers on her clit, and it felt brilliant with Fred fucking into her and George rubbing and she began to whine their names as she spread her legs even wider, wanting to draw them both closer.

“Oh Gods,” she said, as her orgasm began. “Marry me … let’s do this!”

They had leaned in and down, kissing one side of her neck each and whispering their joint ‘yes’. Hermione’s head tilted back into the pillows on the sofa as she rode her orgasm with peals of laughter.

Fred grinned, and then looked up at his brother.

“Does she laugh when you fuck her too?”

“That’s the thing I love best,” George had replied, and they had shared another knowing look. Standing at the altar, they did the same, having a good idea about what their bride was thinking. Giving her another look, they grinned as they saw her blush. They had quite a wedding night planned for her.

At ten yards, Hermione smiled to herself as she remembered the conversation they had had after her proposal as they had lain naked together on a sofa that wasn’t quite big enough. For years to come she would tell them she wished that she had made a bet with Charlie and Bill. She was convinced that she could have won several galleons off the twins’ older brothers, who would never have thought that it was Fred and George who had insisted on waiting and getting to know each other. Hermione had seen the value in taking things slowly as far as announcing their relationship to the world was concerned, but she had been sure enough to ask them both to marry her just a week or two into their new relationship. 

And, after the first few rather intense – but glorious – weeks of getting to know Fred and of exploring how different it was to be with the two of them without having to step foot outside their flat, she was also sure enough to confirm to the rest of their family that this was what she wanted. Forever. To Hermione’s surprise, when the three of them emerged from their solitude and shared the full story and their plans over a family dinner, it was Ron who came up with the strategy.

“Just start going about a bit with the two of them, together and separately,” he said, once the conversation had turned to the question of how this change should be communicated without putting pressure on the three of them. “Like in Diagon … have coffee just with Fred and then walk about with them both. Get people used to seeing you with one or both of them. But no kissing or hand holding, and don’t make a thing of it until Ginny and Harry’s wedding. That’s only a few weeks away,” he said, as if she didn’t know that already, and as if she hadn’t spent hours trying on dresses at Madam Malkin’s. “Then,” he looked at his sister, “you could have both the twins walk you down the aisle rather than just George, and it’ll sort of put the thought out there but the focus will still be on Ginny and the dress. And Harry,” he added, almost as an afterthought. But Harry didn’t care. He was quite happy for the focus to be on Ginny and The Dress, which had cost enough to warrant capitals, he always thought. But it was worth it, and even more so if it served to help deflect attention from Hermione.

“That’s brilliant,” Ginny had conceded, and Molly had nodded too. They had had a long conversation about whether it would help to give Fleur and Luna a second escort each as well, but Luna had, as ever, brought her own wisdom to the table.

“It won’t help, you know,” she said. “It’ll be enough with Hermione being at the front. We don’t need to overplay it.”

She had been right. The gesture was public enough but overshadowed by the focus on the happy couple. And then it was summer and, as the temperature rose, there was less energy for gossip. They began to hold hands, and do more as a trio, and people just accepted it. Things were changing, and most of their peers were just happy to be alive and free of the threats which they had lived with for so long. No-one minded what Hermione was doing, or with whom. By the time the apples ripened, the trio had been accepted and no-one expected the reissued invitations to feature Hermione and George on their own the next time around. 

Five yards from her wizards, Hermione smiled up at Harry and Ron. They both looked happy, and had been beside her throughout her journey. It was difficult to believe how far they had all come since encountering the troll in the bathroom and, sometimes, it was hard to believe that many of their adventures had been real. But she had the scars to prove that they were, as did they all. 

Hermione had insisted that her ‘hen night’ was going to be spent at Grimmauld Place with her two best friends, rather than out drinking, and Ginny had only complained a little. In truth, Molly had said to her later, Ginny would be glad of the rest. Her first baby was due in a month and Ginny was well aware that, like all Weasley babies, it was bound to arrive a couple of weeks late. Hermione smiled at her friend, remembering the conversation they had had a couple of weeks prior. Ginny had been encouraging Hermione to have babies with the twins sooner rather than later, so that their children could grow up together and go to Hogwarts at the same time. Hermione had at first tried to be coy, but then she had given in and her face had split into a smile as she told Ginny that all three of them had decided not to use contraceptive spells and just to go with whatever nature intended. The shop was doing well, and they could afford for Hermione to work or not, as the mood and their circumstances dictated. Both of the twins had said that they would be happy to work part time and do a share of housework and child care. And, she confirmed, all three of them had agreed that they would never allow a paternity spell on any of their babies. They would all be equal parents. Ginny had squealed when she heard all of this, and the two had had a long conversation about their hopes and dreams. A large garden for Hermione, with books and friends and work that she enjoyed, and the love of the two men who had been the first to greet her at the Gryffindor dining table.

And then she was there, at the altar, with Fred and George, and she was ready, and it was time to get married. To the two loves of her life. Hermione took a deep breath.

“You look lovely,” George said. “I love you, Hermione.”

“I love you too,” said Fred. “But before we start,” he added, leaning in so that only she and George could hear. “You’re sure you don’t want to add Percy into the mix as well? He’s still single,” he teased.

“I’m positive,” she said, smiling at the man who couldn’t resist a joke even on the most formal of occasions. “You two will be quite enough for a lifetime, thank you!” She turned to Kingsley, whose broad smile made her feel relaxed, knowing that he was in control. “I’m ready.”

Fred and George each reached for one of Hermione’s hands and turned to the front. Time to get married. Together.


End file.
